


Halloween Gardening 2018

by the_zesty_lemon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Accidental Demon Summoning, Accidental Marriage, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Lance (Voltron), Pidge | Katie Holt is Savage, Pregnancy, Romance, Sassy Pidge | Katie Holt, grad student, pidgance, plance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-08-06 21:19:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16395302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_zesty_lemon/pseuds/the_zesty_lemon
Summary: One-shots to water my plance and my love of Halloween. Mostly AU.1) Your Left Hand (in which sleep deprived grad student Katie Holt accidentally summons a demon. They're both surprised by the outcome.)2) The One with all the Robins3) Halloween Party4) Haunted House5) Pumpkin Carving6) Scary Movie Night7) Costume Shoppe





	1. Your Left Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Sleep deprived grad student Katie Holt accidentally summons a demon. They're both surprised by the outcome.

It was exactly 3:37AM early Sunday morning when Katie Holt accidentally summoned a demon. 

In all fairness, it was deadline and midterm season for her grad studies, she'd been up for more than 28 hours running on coffee, energy drinks and clearly made a grievous error in her coding for bullshit like this to happen. 

In a flashy burst of blue, glittering smoke, a dazzlingly handsome man appeared on top of her coffee table. 

"Good evening foolish mortal! I am the great and powerful demon Lance-"

"Why aren't you wearing a shirt?"

"I...That's your first question?" The demon demanded, annoyed. 

Katie shrugged. 

"It's a fashion choice and clearly I worked hard for these abs and I like to show them off." He indicated his glistening washboard abs, "now, as I was _saying_ -"

"SHIT!" Lance watched as this puny human girl's eyes grew wide and she frantically dove towards her laptop. She pulled the overworked piece of hardware towards her and desperately began clicking between her endless amounts of open tabs. "Did I save it?" Katie muttered under her breath, hands flying across her keyboard at an alarming speed. 

"Excuse me I was-" Lance protested indignantly. 

"I am _not_ redoing this goddamn NSERC application again. Do you know how long that takes? Screw the funding." Katie was muttering to herself and Lance was beginning to feel very ignored. 

"I bet Keith never has to deal with this crap." He complained loudly. 

"Yeah, yeah. Have a seat. I'll get to you in a minute." Katie shushed him, her gaze never leaving her computer screen. Lance huffed and looked around the apartment for the first time. 

"Eww!" He whined, "how do you live like this?" He gingerly picked up an empty take out box off an unoccupied couch cushion, but did not sit down. The entire apartment was a mess. Empty ramen noodle cups, takeout containers and spare computer/ robotics parts littered the ground and every available surface. Papers were strewn everywhere along with laundry and dirty dishes. 

"Please be here. Please be here... YES!" There it was! The tab with her open application. She scanned for the time stamp and saw that she'd saved earlier. Katie breathed a sigh of relief, saved one more time just to be sure and then placed her laptop down on the coffee table, pushing a half-finished energy drink and full, cold cup of coffee out of the way. 

She sighed and sagged into the couch. 

"Ahem. Are you _quite_ done being so rude?" 

Oh right. 

Katie forgot about him. 

"Right. What did you say your name was again? And why are you here?" 

"My name is Lance! I'm a great and powerful demon. You…" 

"Katie." She supplied good naturedly.

"Katie, summoned me here to your… humble abode." Lance said in what was meant to be a strong, intimidating voice, but came out as a whine. 

"Okay." Katie blinked owlishly. Maybe staring at the computer for 20+ hours had actually addled her brain like her mother always warned her? "How did I summon you? Don't you need..." She screwed her eyes shut and tried to think of the last scary movie she'd seen, "chalk and uh… candles or something?" 

"Please. I'm a twenty first century demon. Not some relic." Lance glared at her childishly. "You summoned me through your computer code. I got the summons, and here I am. Now… because you have summoned me here you must accept the consequences of your actions and-" 

"Can you show me where this was?" Katie immediately grabbed her laptop and whipped it around the to face him. 

"Do you always interrupt people like this?" 

"If there is a mistake in my code I need to know." Katie deadpanned in such a soul sucked voice that even Lance the demon shuddered at her tone.

"I… fine. It was here… and here." He indicated two places in the wall of text. 

"Ah. I see. You're right. "This is what I get for drinking that sixth cup of coffee." Katie rubbed her tired eyes and quickly fixed her mistake before turning her attention back to the demon.

"Sorry. You were talking about consequences." 

Lance nodded seriously. 

"Yes. Normally there are such terrifying consequences that your human mind would surely go mad from the horror… however," he smirked, his inhumanly blue eyes flashed dangerously, "there is always the _other_ way." 

"Shoot your shot bud. I've got like ten minutes before I need to start studying for my oral exam." 

Lance bit his tongue to stop himself from saying something rude. She was a _lady_ after all. He let out an exasperated sigh instead and continued on. 

"Fine. I'll give you the summarized version. I can bring you riches, luck, the blood of your enemies… nearly _anything_ . If we were to work together in this mutually beneficial arrangement you would never have to live in this… hovel again." 

"Hey!" Katie's eyes narrowed, "I like my apartment. You were the one who decided to barge in during midterms week. I haven't had time to clean yet!" 

"Be that as it may," Lance quickly hurried on, not wanting to get her started, "all of this and more can be yours. And I need is one, simple, miniscule thing." He paused dramatically. 

"Your left hand." 

This was normally the part where he got them. Hook, line and sinker. 

Riches? 

Check. 

Blood of thy enemies? 

Check. 

All that and more? 

CHECK!

Surely she would be putty in his hands now and good ol' Lance would have his tether to the human world to feed off the misery of humans for another good couple of decades at least. 

Lance smirked, basking in his pre-triumph. 

"My left hand?" Katie repeated incredulously. "You want a slab of meat in repayment for all of that?" 

Lance cringed slightly at her choice of words. "That is all I ask of you. For all of that, and more." 

See, the key to this part that they always stressed in demon school was getting the hapless victim to agree to the deal without fully understanding what the deal entailed. If she knew he was actually asking for her hand in-

"Oh I see," a look of realization dawned over her features, her honeyed brown gaze filling with clarity. "My left _hand_ ."

Lance's stomach plummeted. Did she figure it out?

"So can you cook?" Katie asked suddenly, her eyes filling with a curious interest that Lance was unaccustomed to. Her wide, calculating gaze assessed swept over him and sudden shiver shimmied down his spine.

"Of course?" Lance frowned, bewildered. 

"And all you need is my left hand? In marriage you mean of course…" Katie looked thoughtful, she was pacing around the living room and hardly glanced at him. 

Lance flushed. "Well I…I mean usually you're not supposed to figure that part-"

"Okay." 

"Wait. _What_ ?" Lance stared at the human girl in wide eyed speechlessness. 

"I mean, I was kind of getting tired of fending off that dumb question every girl gets as soon as she gets to a certain age about ' _when are you going to get a boyfriend_ ' or ' _don't worry honey, there's someone for everyone_ '. So I'll just skip that step. It's pretty logical now that I think about it." Katie thoughtfully stroked her chin. "I don't really care about the riches or blood stuff but I can't cook to save my life so you might have to do most of it. I'm game to do the dishes though. I'm also planning a career in astrophysics, but I do want kids eventually."

" _Kids_ ?" Lance's voice cracked. 

"So you might have to be a stay home dad because my career will likely be very demanding. I'd like at least one kid, but three would be nice too." Katie continued on as though she'd hadn't heard him. 

"Whoa, whoa, WHOA! Wait a second, maybe you actually want to think about what you're agreeing to." Lance back peddled, the flush spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. 

Demon school had _not_ prepared him for this situation. 

"Why? Am I damning my immortal soul to hell if I marry you? Because I gotta tell you bud, I've already been there. I've been a teacher's assistant before."

"Well no, but-" 

"So that's settled then." Katie said happily, as though she'd just arranged a lunch date, "I'll marry you. Where do I sign?" 

A shiny, golden contract appeared in a puff of smoke, complete with a fluffy red plumed quill at Katie's words. Lance stared in amazement as she accepted the quill easily and poised to sign her name on the bottom line. 

"Oh. I just remembered. Demons feed off of bad energy or something right?" She paused. 

Lance nodded, wide eyed. 

"I want to add a minor clause to our agreement then. You're not allowed to feed off my family or friends." 

"But how will I subsist?" Finally, Lance rebooted. 

"Will the anguish of my fellow grad students work?"

Lance's heart stampeded in his chest. He slowly and carefully approached this strange, lovely human girl and reached for her hands gently, gathering them against his chest. 

"That misery is so potent it's considered a delicacy." Lance wiped a joyful tear from the corner of his eye. 

"Katie you've made me the happiest demon alive."


	2. Group Costume

"Okay. So what did we learn?" Shiro, who was dressed as Robin from the Teen Titans for their group Halloween costume sighed a long-suffering sigh. 

"Well Robin, this is why we should communicate with words, not just emojis _Robin_." Keith (who was dressed as Robin) glared murderously at Lance who was coincidentally _also_ dressed as Robin from Teen Titans. 

Lance whistled innocently and avoided Keith's gaze. 

"And we should stick to one group text chain… Robin." Allura (also dressed as Robin) sighed in defeat. "I _knew_ I should have just gone as wonder woman." She muttered under her breath. 

"I wonder how this could have happened?" Pidge (also dressed as Robin and the only one to realize beforehand what was about to happen and instead of warning everyone, wanted to add to the chaos by jumping on the Robin bandwagon) asked innocently. 

"Oh well," Hunk plucked at his cape, "at least we all look really cool. Right Robins?"

"Right." They all chimed, ignoring the fact that the small living room looked like a stoplight had vomited red, yellow and green everywhere. 

"Well, let's get going to the party." Shiro prompted.

"Does this still count as a group costume?" Keith asked irritably, heading out the apartment door.

Lance waited until he and Pidge were the last two stragglers in the apartment. 

"Looking good Robin." He purred, waggling his eyebrows suggestively at when she went to pass by him. 

Pidge paused in front of him, standing much too close to be considered innocent.

He swallowed heavily, but didn’t back down. 

Pidge trailed a finger languidly down his chest, her eyes raking across his body in a way that made him flush from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. 

"Right back at you, Robin." Pidge’s low tone did something strange to his insides. She leaned forwards as though she were going to kiss him and his eyelashes fluttered shut in anticipation.

He was completely taken off guard when she gave his ass a firm squeeze instead.

Lance squeaked.

Pidge smirked and then moved on as though she'd done nothing at all. Only when she disappeared out of the apartment door did Lance recover. 

Damn what Pidge did to him was downright criminal.

Good thing he was going as Robin. Maybe he could arrest her later for looking unlawfully amazing in a green pair of tights.

With that thought in mind Lance practically skipped out after his girlfriend.


	3. Halloween Party

“This is dumb.” Pidge grumbled for the hundredth time that night. She looked like a toddler on the brink of an epic tantrum.

“Aww come on Pidge, you’ll have a whale of a time, I promise!” Matt guffawed happily, slinging his arm around his little sister and squeezing her close. 

She glared at him until he removed the offending limb. “You sound like mom trying to coax Bae Bae into the car for his yearly vet appointment.” 

“Can you blame me? Getting Bae Bae to his vet appointment is waaaay easier than getting you out of your apartment. Last time I had to call Keith _and_ Shiro for backup.” 

Pidge hummed fondly, thinking of the near massacre she’d inflicted upon her brother and her best friend (Keith) and brother’s best friend (Shiro). She’d managed to barricade herself in her bedroom after they tried to drag her out of her apartment. She would have gotten the best of them too—had Matt not ratted her out to their mom. 

Colleen Holt was _not_ a woman to be trifled with. 

“I would have won if you hadn’t snitched to mom.” 

Matt grinned. “I know when I need to call in the big guns sis, no crime in that.” 

Pidge grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “ _snitches get stitches_ ” under her breath, but he chose to ignore it. 

The Holt siblings turned the last corner to Shiro’s street. It was a lovely little neighbourhood, the townhouses all squished together. Some of the neighbours had really gone all out on the Halloween décor, but most of the doorways were dark. It was late enough that there were no longer any young trick or treaters out and about. 

The closer they got to Shiro’s front door the more her heart sank. Pidge normally loved coming to Shiro’s but this time was different. 

This was a _Halloween party_. 

Pidge didn’t _do_ parties. 

They were a firm _hell no_ in her books for the majority of the time, but Matt had been sneaky. She knew she should have trusted her gut when her brother offered to help her complete her precious costume. Her bullshit senses were tingling at full force, but Pidge foolishly ignored her honed senses because she’d been so excited to finally finish her costume: Meklavar the Dwarf from the Monsters and Mana. 

Blinded by Matt’s (at the time seemingly) generous presentation of the one missing piece to her costume—the helmet—Pidge ignored her gut and now she was paying the price. 

When Matt asked her to come to Shiro’s Halloween Party, she couldn’t say no. 

So… here she was: standing outside of Shiro’s home, wearing full body armour and wielding a huge axe that was more than half her size while her traitor of a brother was dressed as Han Solo. 

Music seeped out from behind the front door, she was pretty sure it was Monster Mash playing. Pidge silently vowed if she heard that song more than once tonight she’d smash the speaker. 

Matt reached for the door handle and then stopped, turning to face his little sister instead. 

“Hey, if you’re that uncomfortable, you can always go hang out in Keith’s room. Or head home if you want. Just let me know and I’ll walk you.” 

Pidge smiled at his sincere offer. Even though her brother stooped to underhanded methods to get her here, she appreciated his concern. 

She lugged her axe prop up onto her shoulder, cocking her hip much more confidently than she felt. “Thanks Han.” 

Matt grinned and opened the front door, stepping in as though he owned the place. 

The party was in full swing. People loitered in the foyer, talking animatedly or dancing to the music. Matt called out a greeting and Pidge followed his lead with a brief wave. One of the best parts of Halloween was seeing what everyone dressed up as. She drank in the sights of a zombie, a witch, a pirate… Costumes ranging from spooky to silly made the knot of dread in her stomach loosen. 

They made their way further into the home, heading towards the kitchen. 

“What do you think Shiro and Keith dressed up as— _oh my god_.” Matt gasped. 

Pidge’s head whipped around, following her brother’s gaze. 

Her jaw dropped. 

Shiro was in the kitchen, dressed as Buzz Lightyear. The white, purple and green costume was unmistakable. The only thing that confused her was the lack of Shiro’s prosthetic arm. He didn’t always wear it when he was home, but still, it seemed a little strange he would deliberately leave it off for the party. 

Shiro waved when he caught sight of Matt and Pidge standing in the doorway of the busy kitchen and gestured them over. 

“Hey guys! Glad you could make it.” He said sincerely, having to speak a little louder than normal over the music. 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Matt greeted with a happy grin. 

“Great costume Shiro.” Pidge complimented, finally managing to close her jaw. 

“Thanks Pidge. Wait until you see—” 

“Holy shit look at Keith.” Matt cut Shiro right off, nearly smacking his sister across her cheek in his gleefully excited haste to point across the room. 

“Howdy partners.” Keith drawled wryly in a very bad southern accent, waving with...

Pidge’s jaw dropped for the second time that evening. Keith entered the kitchen, waving Shiro’s prosthetic arm dressed as _Woody_. The prosthetic arm had the rest of the Buzz Lightyear sleeve on it. 

Pidge burst out laughing. Tears sprang into her eyes and Matt had to hold her up, though he was laughing nearly as hard. 

“That’s—your costumes—” Words failed her and she doubled over again, armour clanking every time she laughed which just made her laugh harder. 

“I think we broke Pidge.” Keith remarked, sounding pleased. It wasn’t everyday he was able to render his best friend speechless.

“Amazing.” Matt sighed, wiping away the tears from his cheeks. 

Pidge nodded in avid agreement. 

“Glad you got such a kick out of it.” Shiro grinned. “Now would you mind giving me a hand?” He gestured to the snack bowls on the counter waiting to be distributed around the house. Matt snatched up some of the bowls without another word, going to do as he was asked. Pidge was a little slower about it, her armour made it harder to cradle the bowls carefully as she tried to balance her axe. 

“I can’t believe you kept such an amazing costume from me.” She complained loudly to Keith, who shrugged with a sly smirk. 

“It was Shiro’s idea to keep it a surprise.” 

“You guys win Halloween forever. Seriously.”

They finished gathering the remaining bowls between them and Pidge trailed behind Keith, handing him the snacks as they moved through the crowded rooms.  
As far as parties went this wasn’t bad. The amount of people seemed just right—it wasn’t too hot or loud or stifling. She had yet to hear Monster Mash on repeat, which was also impressive for a Halloween party. Maybe if she could just keep busy like this all night it wouldn’t be so bad. 

“Your Meklavar costume turned out really good.” 

“Thanks.” Pidge grinned proudly. She worked hard on gathering the proper materials for her costume for nearly the entire year. While Keith didn’t really share her love of Monsters and Mana, he knew the amount of work she’d put into her costume and it was impressive. 

“Do you want something to drink?” He offered as they returned to the kitchen. 

“Sure, thanks cowboy.” Pidge teased. 

Keith rolled his eyes and turned to the fridge to grab some drinks.They clanked their bottles together in cheers before taking a sip. 

“I can’t believe all it took was the Meklavar helmet to get you to the party. I’ll remember that for the future.” Keith remarked slyly just as Pidge took a drink. 

She inhaled sharply and promptly spit the beer out—all over Keith’s shoulder. 

“Eugh! Gross.” He complained, jumping back. 

She hacked and coughed, flipping him the middle finger while trying to regain her breath. Finally, she took another swig of beer to ease the tickle in her throat and full out glared at her best friend. 

“You _traitor_. I knew Matt hadn’t thought of that by himself.” Pidge croaked. She didn’t feel so bad for accidentally spraying him with beer anymore. 

The bastard just smirked and shrugged in that infuriating way that only Keith could manage. 

“You know we wouldn’t have to stoop to these methods if you would just come out every once in a while.”

Pidge stuck her tongue out at him.

“I’m going to go clean myself up.” Keith sighed and gestured to the wet mess on his shirt. He put his beer down on the counter and headed towards the stairs.  
Pidge leaned against the counter, peering around the kitchen. She could see Matt through the kitchen doorway, already at the beer pong tables and by the look on his face, losing horribly. 

“Hey! Nice Gimli costume!” 

What the? _Gimli_? 

Her eye twitched. She turned around and was ready to properly educate whoever dared call her Gimli and then promptly lost all the steam behind the righteous fury when she realized who it was. 

“Hey Pidge.” Hunk grinned. 

“Hunk! I thought you couldn’t make it.” She laughed and gave him a one-armed bear hug. 

“I thought so too! But I finished my project and here I am.” Hunk said triumphantly. He spun around to show off his jack-o-lantern costume. “I brought my lab partner as my plus one—he’s in here somewhere.” He frowned and glanced around.

“I left him by the beer pong table. I’m sure he’s fine.” Hunk’s gaze shifted and he glanced down at Pidge in a way that could only be described as mischievous. “You should meet him. I think you’d like his costume.” 

Before she could ask Hunk what he meant, his attention was stolen away when he spotted the snack table. 

“Aww man. I’ve told Shiro time and time again that proper plating is half the allure! I need to go help him fix this.” Hunk sighed and shook his head. “I’ll be back Pidge, this is just going to take a minute.” 

Pidge watched Hunk head towards the snack table and to rearrange the bowls, clearly a man on a mission. She let out a sigh and headed towards the living room area—maybe Keith was done cleaning himself up. 

 

…

 

“Nice Gimli costume dude! I love lord of the rings.” 

Pidge grunted when the random, drunk partygoer thumped her on the back, nearly knocking her over. She bristled, but by then he was gone. This was the third time this happened aside from Hunk’s good-natured teasing.

If one more person complimented her on her ‘Gimli’ costume, she was going to stab them with her fake battle-axe. 

“Stupid Matt.” Pidge grumbled under her breath, stuffing her face with the bowl of popcorn she’d managed to abscond with from the kitchen like a little gremlin, “stupid party.” 

Matt was definitely on her hit list after tonight. So was Keith. After he’d cleaned himself up, he kept getting side-tracked. As one of the two hosts, it had been inevitable, but Pidge was still going to sulk about it because Matt and Keith were the ones who conspired to get her here in the first place! 

Even Hunk was busy, having struck up what looked like a lively conversation with a very pretty, tall girl dressed as an alien. Judging by the vibes they were giving off, Pidge didn’t want to interrupt that conversation and be a third wheel. 

So far she’d been flitting between the kitchen and the dining room, but that was quickly growing old. The house was busy at this point and her suit of army was hot. She was growing tired and increasingly grumpy and finally Pidge decided she would just head home. 

She just needed to find Matt and let him know she’d take a cab and then she could blow this Popsicle stand. Last time she’d seen him, he was in the living room cheering on and or heckling the beer pong matches. 

She took two steps into the living room before someone slammed into her. 

Pidge grunted at the impact and crashed to the floor. Luckily she landed on her thick, fuzzy cape. She spun around in one complete circle like an upended beetle before coming to a stop. 

“Shit! I’m _so_ sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” The person apologized hurriedly, hauling her up. “Are you ok—holy quiznak—you—your costume isn’t from Monsters and Mana is it?” 

Pidge blinked, her mind struggled to process what just happened. Finally, _Pidge.exe_ rebooted and she realized what she was looking at. A strange bubble of sheer, undiluted excitement welled up within her. 

“You’re a thief! Monsters and Mana?” It wasn’t the most eloquent sentence she’d ever spoken but it got the point across. The catlike ears, the marks painted on his cheeks, the scarf… it couldn’t be? 

His brow furrowed, and Pidge’s excitement nosedived until he opened his mouth. 

“I’m not a thief! I’m Pike, a ninja assassin, the silent killer.” He defended hotly. “My victims never know I’m coming ‘cause I don’t say a word. They look around, don’t see anything so they drop their guard but what they don’t realize… is that I’m lurking in the shadows silently watching!” 

“Yeah,” Pidge smirked, “you’re _real_ quiet.” 

He stuck his tongue out at her childishly. “Fine then! Tell me your character’s backstory if you’re so great. You’re a dwarf huh?” 

“I’m Meklavar, a dwarven miner whose precious family heirloom, the Jewel of Jitan was stolen. I’m on a quest to retrieve it. I’m also the best axe wielder in _three_ lands.” 

He grunted in grudging approval. “Okay. That’s pretty cool. A family heirloom and all that.”

They eyed each other speculatively before laughing. 

“I’m Lance.” He offered his hand and Pidge took it in a firm handshake. 

“Pidge.” 

“Short and sweet. Kind of like—” 

“Finish that sentence and I promise you won’t ever live to see the end of the Carthian Lair.” 

His eyes widened. 

“You’ve made it to the end? How?” His blue eyes shone with excitement—he looked like a kid in a candy store. 

Pidge ignored the strange flip of her her heart and grinned cockily. 

“Maybe I’ll tell you… if you beat me in a game of beer pong.” She nodded her head in the direction of the now free table and Lance followed her gaze. 

“You're going _down_.” 

 

…

 

Three rounds of beer pong later, Pidge narrowly lost the tiebreaker, and it was a _devastating_ defeat. She normally kicked ass at Ping-Pong, but it turns out the game was slightly different when you were wearing full body armour. 

“I want a rematch.” Pidge grumbled, passing off the paddle to the next eager person waiting their turn. 

As much as she hated to admit it, Lance was good. He would probably give her a run for her money even when she wasn’t in full armour. Damn him. 

He chuckled. “I believe you owe me some juicy secrets, Meklavar.”

Pidge flushed inexplicably at his low tone. 

“I guess a deal is a deal, even when that deal is with a no good thief.” 

“Hey!” 

Pidge laughed at his indignant expression. 

“Want another drink? Then I’ll spill all my secrets.”

A quick trip to the kitchen later, the two settled down on the staircase in the living room. It was a little squishier with the two of them sitting on one step, but she didn’t mind and neither did he. 

Lance offered her the bowl M&Ms he’d managed to snag from the kitchen and Pidge happily chowed down. 

“Okay. What part are you stuck on?” 

 

…

 

Before Pidge knew it, the party was winding down. Matt was yawning when he came to find her. 

“Time to go sis, I already helped Shiro clean up the kitchen.” Matt yawned, starting a little when he noticed she wasn’t alone. 

“Oh, hey.” Matt greeted, “you’re Hunk’s lab partner, right? I’m Matt.” 

“Lance. Nice to meet you.” They shook hands firmly, and Matt’s eyes only lingered on the cosy closeness of their legs for a moment. 

“I just have to use the bathroom and then I’m good to go. I’ll be right back.” Matt nodded and promptly turned on his heel, leaving the two alone for another minute. 

“You’re Hunk’s lab partner?” Pidge asked as soon as her brother was out of the earshot. 

Lance grinned and gave a cat-like stretch. “Yeah, we got our project done and Hunk invited me at the last minute.” 

No wonder Hunk wanted her to meet his lab partner. Finding someone who loved Monsters and Mana as much as she did was hard! 

“I should probably go find Hunk.” Lance sighed. 

Pidge tried to quell the strange surge of disappointment in her stomach. She didn’t want him to leave… but at least if he was friends with Hunk there was a chance she’d see him again? Or… there was always another option.

“Can I have your phone number?” Pidge blurted. 

Lance blinked in surprise and he stopped, mid rise. 

She flushed. “We could meet up and go over some game strategy. At Olkari?” Olkari was the local board game café. 

“How about this Saturday? Eight o’ clock?” He offered. She didn’t notice how Lance’s cheeks were dusted pink as he entered his name and phone number into her phone.

“It’s a date.” Pidge agreed happily. There was a lot to be said for gaining a friend who happened to love Monsters and Mana as much as she did! 

“Goodnight Pidge.” Lance said shyly, giving her a happy smile that made her heart flip inexplicably before he disappeared to go find Hunk. 

She watched him go, before glancing down at her phone. He’d entered his name as: _Lance McClain (Ninja Assassin)_. 

She snorted and couldn’t help the grin from spreading across her lips. What a goof. 

“Wow Pidge, I didn’t know you had it in you.” Keith startled her when claimed Lance’s just vacated spot on the stairs. 

“Wh-what?” Pidge asked confusedly, adjusting the visor on her helmet. 

Keith raised an eyebrow. 

“You just asked Hunk’s lab partner on a date, didn’t you?” 

Pidge stared at him in bewilderment. Silence stretched between them. 

“What?” 

“You just asked that guy out.” Keith repeated exasperatedly. 

“No I didn’t.” Pidge frowned. 

“You got his number.”

“Yeah?” 

“And you arranged a time to meet with him. You even used the ‘D’ word.” A smirk pulled at the corner of Keith’s lips. Pidge’s eyes widened. 

“I didn’t.” She denied quickly. 

“You did. You said, and I quote, ‘ _it’s a date_!’” Keith said in a poor and far too high-pitched imitation of her voice. 

Pidge was silent for a long, long moment. 

“ _Shit_.” 

Keith laughed.

 

…

 

As it turns out, Lance wasn’t sure if it was a _date_ or a date- _date_ either. 

It made for a few awkward, uncertain moments in the beginning of their evening on Saturday (on both of their parts), but after they got through that it was a great time. Pidge made Lance snort his hot chocolate out of his nose when she did her walrus impression with two forks. Lance returned the favour when he accidentally combined the words “long” and “short” when he was trying to describe something and it came out “schlong”. 

They never did get to talk much Monsters and Mana strategy, but neither of them minded. 

At the end of the night, Pidge made sure there was no confusion when she asked him out again, this time as a _date-date_.


	4. Haunted House

All in all, being a haunted house actor wasn’t a bad gig. 

Typically, you got three types of people: 

1) People who were actually scared.

2) People who were lame and grumpy or were ‘forced to be there’ and, 

3) The laughers, laughing at type one. 

Her favourite part was (of course) was scaring people, _especially_ the first type. Seeing how badly she could get someone to flinch or scream or run shrieking in terror, never to return was the best part of the job, hands down. On a scale of one (being a slight flinch) to a ten (the victim pooping their pants), Pidge had managed to get to an eight before: fainting. It was a good outlet for her school-related stress; she could tune out and really get into the job.

It was a relatively slow Saturday night when Pidge was informed she had a couple approaching her station—the morgue. 

Pidge pegged the guy in the white and blue shirt for her favourite type of person to scare immediately. He was jumpy and his eyes were wide for any possible sign of someone trying to sneak up on them. 

She lay completely still. 

“Is that real?” The guy whispered fearfully. 

Pidge knew she was quite a horrifying sight. Allura really put her amazing makeup skills to work for this character. Her face was a grotesque imagining of what it might look like if someone actually had skinned her face off. Blood was strewn down her gown and all over the table and floor. The tools were set up around the room to add to the terrifying picture, letting the unsuspecting victims’ imaginations fill in the rest. 

Something shifted behind them and he whirled around. “What was _that_?” 

Pidge waited until the couple’s concentration was on one of the distraction actors before she slowly, slowly sat up from the table. The cloth of her costume whispered around her as she slipped off the table. Pidge managed to make it directly behind the guy in the blue and white shirt without either of them noticing. 

When he turned around, Pidge rasped: “ _BOO_.”

He shrieked. 

It was the most hilarious noise she’d ever heard anyone make, a cross between a shriek and a turkey gobble.

In his haste to get away from her, he forgot how to use his limbs and ended up careening directly into one of the walls. There was an audible _THUNK_! before he was on his back, his nose gushing blood. 

He groaned. 

“OW.” 

“Oh crap. Are you okay?” Pidge offered her hand to the guy, forgetting about her hideously gruesome makeup. 

He yelped and scuttled backwards like a crab, nose still streaming blood. 

His date looked entirely unimpressed. 

“Whoa there. You’ve got a nosebleed.” Pidge tried to talk in a soothing, non-scary voice. “Let me get you into the first aid room.”

He seemed slightly dazed, but he pinched the bridge of his nose, stopping the flow of blood. 

She held out her hand again and this time he accepted it, though he did look unnerved at her costume still. She hauled him up and led him towards a side door in the morgue. 

“Hey Hunk, we’ve got a code blue. I’m bringing him in for some first aid.” Pidge spoke into her microphone. (Code Blue meaning: minor injury, some blood).

“ _Roger that Perky Pidgeon_.” Hunk’s chipper voice filled her ear, moments later the side door opened and he appeared. 

Hunk insisted on giving all of them nicknames for the earpiece system they used. Allura was _Princess_ , Keith was _Emo_ and Pidge of course, was _Perky Pidgeon_.

Pidge suddenly remembered that the guy had a date. She turned back to the bored looking gorgeous girl. 

“Do you want to go with him?” Pidge offered, gesturing to the door Hunk had just led her unsuspecting victim through.

“He’ll be fine.” The girl shrugged and simply walked back the way she came. 

Pidge frowned, a little taken aback by her coldness. 

She flipped the entry sign to her morgue over, it read: “out of _morgue-r_ ” (one of Hunk’s finer puns if he did say so himself). The distraction actors would help reroute the foot traffic until she returned. 

Pidge ducked into the dimly lit side hall, leading into the network of maze-like hallways that led through the entire haunted house structure. She made a detour into the staff room to grab a chocolate milk box from her stash for her victim. 

“Oh. Hey Pidge. Break time already?” Keith was leaning up against the counter of the staff room when she came in, clearly on his break as he chowed down on a pop tart. He was dressed today as some kind of horrifying demon chef, his discarded meat cleaver stained with blood lay on the counter. 

Pidge shook her head and fished out a milk box from the fridge. “Not yet. I scared someone so good that he rammed right into a wall and gave himself a nasty nosebleed. I’m going to help Hunk.” 

“Nice.” Keith nodded approvingly, “a solid seven.” He held out his fist expectantly. Pidge grinned and fist bumped him before she headed out to the first aid room.  
Moments later, she knocked on the first aid room door. 

“Come in!” Hunk called. He already had her victim sitting on the table, a cold compress and a wad of Kleenex pressed against his face.

“Whoa, I see why Pidge got you good, Lance.” Hunk chuckled good naturedly, his eyes sweeping over her particularly gruesome costume. “Allura really out did herself today.” 

Lance groaned.

“Don’t worry man, this kind of thing happens _all_ the time. And Pidge here is one of our best scarers.” Hunk was so perfect for this job. He always made people feel at ease and he was excellent at providing first aid. Clearly he and Lance were getting along just fine. 

“Where’s Nyma?” Lance asked, his voice muffled from the Kleenex and cold pack.

Ah. So that was the name of his date. 

His gaze drifted over her shoulder, as though Pidge were hiding his date behind her. 

She suddenly felt very awkward. 

“Um… she didn’t want to follow me. I’m sure she must be waiting for you out front.” Pidge offered. Lance’s face fell at her words, but he tried to hide his disappointment.  
“Y-yeah! I’m sure that’s where she is.” He mumbled. 

Pidge and Hunk exchanged a pitying look. Normally when your date was injured, you didn’t ditch them. Even Pidge was put off by Nyma’s cold reaction, and she was no award winning people person by any means.

“This is for you. No one likes the taste of nosebleed.” She offered, hoping that he wasn’t lactose intolerant. 

Lance seemed to perk up a little at the chocolate milk. “Thanks.” 

“I’d better get back to the morgue.” Pidge said a moment later. “Do you need anything else here?” 

Hunk shook his head. “I think we’re good. The blood has almost stopped and Lance will be good to go soon.” 

“Okay. Nice scaring you, Lance.” Pidge nodded. 

He laughed and her cheeks grew warm at the sound. Hunk gave her a single, raised eyebrow in surprise, but she slipped out of the room and back to her post before he could give her any other knowing looks. 

 

…

 

“Have a good night Pidge! See you tomorrow for brunch?” Allura called hopefully from her chair. She was currently helping Keith take off the latex pieces of his gruesome makeup.

“Wouldn't miss it.” Pidge smiled and waved before heading out the door. 

The cool night air felt so good against her face—scaring really worked up a sweat! It was shortly after midnight and the parking lot was all but deserted as Pidge headed out to her car. Or at least, she thought it was deserted. 

In the well-lit parking lot, she was surprised to see a single person sitting on the curb. She squinted, wondering who was sitting there and why they looked familiar. Normally it was just the staff left at this hour, who the heck was hanging around here? She caught sight of the familiar blue and white shirt. 

“Lance?” Pidge called, surprised. 

He looked up, startled. Pidge turned and came closer to where he was sitting, stopping just short. 

“Yes?” He asked curiously. She realized he probably didn't recognize her without the gruesome makeup. 

“It’s me, scary morgue actor who made you run into the wall?” Pidge offered awkwardly, wondering what the hell he was still doing here at this hour. It had been at least two hours since he’d had a nosebleed…

“Oh!” Lance perked up a little, “sorry, I didn't recognize you without the… you know.” He gestured to his face in a circular motion. 

She chuckled. “It’s okay. Believe it or not I don’t like to look like that longer than I have to. Latex is a bitch to take off at the end of the day.” 

It was his turn to chuckle. 

Pidge glanced around the glaringly empty parking lot. “What are you still doing here?” 

Lance visibly drooped and for a moment he didn’t answer. Pidge’s overworked brain was rapidly putting two and two together and before she could stop herself she asked: “did your girlfriend… _leave_ you here?” 

He flinched and she could have kicked herself, but Lance’s reaction had been all the confirmation she needed. 

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Lance sighed, “we were here on our first date. I guess she just had other stuff to do.” 

It was a lame excuse and they both knew it. Nyma must have ditched Lance when he was receiving first aid. 

Pidge frowned. “And she drove?” 

He sighed again and nodded, looking distracted. “I texted my sister to come get me, but she doesn’t get off work until one.” 

Damn. So he’d been here this _whole_ time? Pidge hadn’t been on a lot of first dates, but this one sounded like it was the worst. Who ditched their date and left them stranded? The haunted house where she worked was just outside the city, tucked amidst an old scrap yard and a farmer’s field, definitely not close to any public transit. 

She glanced back at her vehicle and then to Lance. He looked cold and miserable and she couldn’t just leave him here. 

“I’ll give you a ride.” Pidge offered. 

Lance nearly gave himself whiplash he looked at her so fast. 

“What?” 

“I can give you a ride. That way your sister doesn't have to come all the way out here when I’m heading into town anyways.” 

He stared at her, slack jawed.

Pidge shuffled awkwardly on her feet. “I mean, if you’re comfortable. Beats staying out in the cold.” Finally he seemed to snap back into it. 

“That—that would be great. You’re a lifesaver.” Lance scrambled up quickly. 

He followed her at a respectful distance while Pidge unlocked her car, scrambling across the seat to manually unlock the passenger door. She quickly pushed a few papers off the seat and tossed her backpack into the backseat. 

Lance climbed in a moment later, shyly sitting down in the passenger side of her car and shutting the door behind him. 

“Whoa, you have a cassette player still?” His eyes grew wide. 

It’s my brother’s old car. He retired Sexarella here to me when he left for a job at Voltron Tech.” Pidge explained, doing up her seatbelt. Voltron Tech was across the country and Matt wouldn’t need a car in such a large city. 

“Sexarella?” Lance choked on a laugh. 

“Matt named her when he was a sophomore. I never got around to changing her name.” Besides that, the it was a source of endless teasing for Pidge. Matt’s friends told him he needed to pick out a cool car name… and Sexarella was the first one he’d blurted out. As if a younger sibling would let teasing fodder like that slip through their fingers! So Sexarella stuck. 

Pidge pulled out of the parking lot carefully and hit the highway; once she was up to speed she realized she needed to know where they were going. 

“Where do you want me to drop you off?”

“Anywhere near the university is great, I live at the dorms there.” Lance said hesitantly, as if he didn’t want to push his good luck at being offered a ride. 

“Great. That’s on my way home.” Pidge might have added more to the conversation, but Lance seemed tired and dejected that he really wasn’t in the mood for chatter, so they lapsed into silence. 

It’s too bad Hunk wasn’t here. He was a pro at making people feel better and Lance had clearly had a rough day. An idea flashed through her mind—maybe _Hunk_ could still help! In a way. 

“Wanna go to Vrepit Sal’s?” Pidge offered before she lost the nerve. 

“Vrepit Sal’s?” Lance repeated unsurely. 

“Yeah. It’s a diner. Hunk normally comes with me on Saturdays for a late night snack, but he’s leaving to visit his girlfriend tomorrow and had to pack. So…you’d be doing me a favour… And,” Pidge paused dramatically, “they have _thee_ best spaghetti ice cream.” 

Lance stared at her dumbly. “Spaghetti ice cream?” 

She nodded. 

“Like ice cream that’s flavoured like spaghetti? Tomato sauce and all?” 

Pidge shrugged and smirked. “You’ll have to find that out for yourself.” 

Lance looked both disturbed and intrigued at the idea of spaghetti flavoured ice cream. “Okay,” he said with a grin, “I’m in.” 

 

…

 

“This is soooooo _good_.” Lance moaned, shovelling another spoonful spaghetti ice cream into his mouth.

“I do feel a little cheated that it’s not ice cream that tastes like spaghetti, but also glad.” He admitted, glancing down at the ice cream that was made to look like spaghetti, but not taste like it. It was just vanilla ice cream put through a press so it came out looking like noodles, topped with strawberry sauce and white chocolate flakes. 

Pidge smirked and ate some of her own ice cream. Vrepit Sal’s wasn’t too busy at this time of night, so they almost had the whole diner to themselves. They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, before Lance broke it. 

“So, you’re a haunted house scarer by night and… superman by day?” 

She snorted and accidentally gave herself an ice cream moustache. Lance grinned and handed her a napkin.

“Haunted house scarer by night and astrophysics major by day.” 

“You go to Garrison Tech?” 

“Yeah. What about you?” 

“I’m taking Biology. I want to be a marine biologist one day.” Lance explained excitedly. 

“Marine biologist? That’s cool. What made you want to do that?” Pidge asked, genuinely intrigued. She didn’t know a lot about marine biology other than it was a hard discipline to get into.

Lance blushed a little. “I’ve always lived around the ocean. During high school I volunteered at several marine centres and well, here I am. What about you? Why astrophysics?” 

“I want to be a mad scientist of course.” Pidge grinned. Lance grinned back and she tried to ignore the weird flip her stomach made. 

“My mom is an astrophysicist and I always found her work fascinating. So here I am.” Pidge parroted his words. 

“That’s amazing.” Lance said honestly, but then frowned. “You asked me more questions in the time we’ve known each other today than Nyma ever did.” He sighed, “I just thought our first date would go differently.”

Pidge awkwardly shifted in her seat, really wishing that Hunk was here once more. She wasn’t so good at cheering people up. She always tended to say the wrong thing and make people feel worse. Matt had asked her to stop trying to cheer him up on several occasions. 

“That’s rough, buddy.” It seemed like a safe thing to say.

Lance snorted. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” She offered after a moment, trying to channel her inner W.W.H.D. (What Would Hunk Do?). 

“What’s to talk about? My date ditched me after I was dumb and ran into a wall because I was scared. I guess I kind of see why she might have…” 

Pidge couldn't stand his self-deprecating tone any longer. 

She slapped her hands down on the table, surprising him. “That’s bullshit and you know it. What kind of person leaves when you need medical attention? And then ditches you where you can’t easily get home? A lame person. That’s who.” 

Lance stared at her in shock, and Pidge realized that she may have gone too far. They barely knew each other and here she was, half yelling at him. 

“I’m sorry, that was—“

“No.” Lance cut her off, his cheeks bright pink. “You’re right. I shouldn’t make excuses. If a friend told me that someone did that to them, I’d definitely be yelling at them too. What Nyma did was really lame. Thanks for saying that.” 

Pidge’s mouth suddenly felt dry. “No problem.” 

They settled back into eating their ice cream in a comfortable, but almost shy silence. Lance’s cheeks were still pink and Pidge was pretty sure hers matched. 

 

…

 

It was just shy of two o’ clock in the morning when Pidge finally pulled the car up to the curb outside of Lance’s dorm. She’d insisted driving him to right to his dorm, because it was late and no one should really walk across such a large campus alone, at night, in the dark. 

Lance unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to look at her. “Thanks for turning my day around, Pidge.” 

Her heartbeat thumped traitorously hard in her chest. 

“No problem. You made my day by helping me get into the top scares this month for sure.” Teasing was safe, and it had the desired benefit of making Lance laugh again, a sound she was quickly becoming addicted to. 

“I’m glad some good came out of me being a scaredy cat.” 

They stared at each other for a moment, Lance didn't seem to want to leave the car and Pidge didn't really want him to go either. 

Should she ask for his phone number? 

The moment seemed to break, because Lance sighed and got out of the vehicle, but he didn’t close the door. 

“Thanks for the ride. Maybe I’ll see you around campus?” Was it just her imagination or was his tone hopeful? 

“Definitely. Thanks for coming to Vrepit Sal’s with me.” She saluted him. 

“Goodnight.” Lance said softly, but he still didn’t close the door. 

“Goodnight Lance.”

She chickened out. 

She wanted to ask for his phone number—but Pidge didn’t want Lance to give her his number out of obligation because she’d given him a ride. 

Finally, Lance shut the door. He waved until she turned the corner and Pidge tried not to look at him in the rear-view mirror.

 

…

 

Pidge sagged against the table, catching her breath. She’d just chased out an entire high school basketball team that was all legs and long limbs and they tripped over one another in a bizarre chain of human dominoes in their haste to run away. 

Another job well done, she was able to take a quite breather while waiting for the next group of people. It was busier than usual tonight, but with Halloween right around the corner that was no surprise. 

“ _Pidge, we've got a weird situation in the morgue. Can you join us in the first aid room_?” Shiro’s voice crackled to life in her earpiece. 

Shiro was filling in for Hunk since he was still away until next week, visiting Shay. Normally Shiro was their finisher, the dreaded chainsaw guy that chased their unsuspecting victims right out of the haunted house, but this week he was working behind the scenes.

Frowning, Pidge wondered what situation in the morgue could possibly require her presence, but she flipped over the sign to the entry of her witch’s lair anyways. It read “ _Bewitcha in a minute_!” (Another of Hunk’s punny signs). 

“On my way.” Pidge spoke into the earpiece, disappearing behind into the hidden door in the wall of the lair. She could hear the muffled screams of the haunted house victims as she passed through the narrow corridors, bumping into a couple actors on her way through. 

Finally, coming to the first aid room, she knocked. 

“Come in.” Shiro’s called. She pushed the door open and froze. 

Lance sat on the first aid table, holding a cold pack to his face.

It took her a moment to shake the deranged feeling of déjà vu that slapped her across the face. All that was missing was Hunk!

“What the?” Pidge shut the door behind her. “Lance?” 

Lance smiled sheepishly and waved. “Hey Pidge. You’re a witch today… oops.” 

Shiro was standing beside Lance, hands on his hips and looking back and forth between the two of them. 

“Pidge, you know him?” Shiro asked sternly before she or Lance could say anything else. 

She nodded. “Yeah.” 

Some of the protectiveness leaked away from Shiro’s stance. “Okay. He asked out Plaxum while she was trying to scare him and she got freaked out and called for backup. One of the distraction actors scared him because they didn’t realize what was going on and he hit his head on the corner of the wall. But he insisted he knew you.”

That explained the cold pack Lance was holding to his forehead. 

Pidge raised her eyebrow and looked at Lance. “You asked out Plaxum?” 

“I thought it was you!” He blurted out before promptly going an alarming shade of pink.

“Er… maybe I’ll just leave you two to sort this out. Take your break early Pidge, I’ll cover for you.” Shiro said uncomfortably. 

“Thanks Shiro.” Pidge mumbled, her entire face on fire. 

“Sorry for the confusion.” Lance apologized honestly, looking suitably embarrassed. Shiro gave him a friendly clap on the back and left the room, leaving the two of them alone. 

“So…” Pidge hopped up onto the first aid table beside Lance and smirked at him out of the corner of her eye. “You thought Plaxum was me, huh?” 

Lance flushed even brighter. “It was the hair.” He mumbled, dropping his head into his hands. “And it was dark. I thought it was you.” 

Pidge grinned, unable to do anything to stop her rampaging heartbeat. “Yeah, we switch roles every weekend to keep it fresh.” 

Lance groaned into his hands. 

Pidge decided she wasn’t going to chicken out this time. 

“Do you want get spaghetti ice cream tonight? Vrepit Sal’s at 1:00?” She asked shyly. 

Lance’s head popped right out of his hands so he could look at her in surprise, his jaw slightly agape. 

“You know… You won’t be needing a broom anymore.” He said thoughtfully after a moment, a grin pulling at the corner of his lips. 

Pidge looked at him quizzically. 

“Because you’ve already swept me off my feet! You know… because you’re a witch.”

She groaned and took that as a yes.


	5. Pumpkin Carving

It was a yearly tradition Pidge and Lance had taken up as part of their pre-Halloween prep: a pumpkin carving contest. 

Their friends and family would vote on Halloween night, when everyone stopped by the house for trick or treating and dinner. Lance won last year with a vomiting pumpkin (spewing it’s own guts), Pidge a very close second with her Skellington Jack pumpkin. 

Lance was determined to keep his title as Pumpkin King (or Pumpkin _Head_ , as Pidge so lovingly called him). 

The kitchen looked like the set of a murder. There was plastic laid everywhere on the countertops, with pumpkin guts and seeds strewn all over and knives of varying sizes abandoned near by. 

Nearly an hour passed before Pidge laid down her blade. Her short hair was sticking up and there was pumpkin smudged across her cheek. Lance didn't look any better when he laid his knife down. He was up to his elbows in pumpkin gunk and he was fairly sure he had a seed or two sticking to his neck. 

“All done?” Lance asked excitedly. He was quite proud of his scary pumpkin attempt. There were a lot of teeth on this pumpkin and really evil, if slightly misshapen eyes. 

“You know it.” Pidge agreed. 

Without further ado they each turned their pumpkin around. 

Eagerly, Lance looked at Pidge’s pumpkin to size up the competition. His grin faltered. 

All that was carved into her pumpkin, in big, bold letters, is one word: 

**PARENTHOOD**. 

Lance doesn’t get it. 

“Parenthood?” His brows knit together. “I don’t get it.” 

Pidge smiled nervously, a look that Lance was not so accustomed to seeing on his wife’s features. “The spookiest word of them all. We’re going to be parents.” She pulled a small baggy out from her hoodie pocket and handed it to him.

It didn’t take him long to realize what he was holding: a pregnancy test with a little positive pink plus sign. 

Pidge was pregnant. 

_They_ were pregnant. 

They did the frickety frack and now they were going to have a _**BABY!**_

He was going to be a _dad_. 

Lance let out a large whoop of joy and startled Pidge by grabbing her and spinning her in the air, gooey pumpkin covered hands be damned. She squealed in surprise, which quickly turned muffled when Lance smooshed her to his chest in an exuberant bear hug. 

“Really?” He asked breathlessly, kissing the top of her head. 

Pidge nodded into his chest, returning his hug just as needily. 

“Are you happy?” It was a question he was scared to ask. They’d made the decision to start trying about five months ago, but it was another thing to talk about a hypothetical baby than the real deal. 

Pidge pushed away just enough so she could caress his face lovingly, forcing him to look her in the eye. 

“ _So_ happy. But also scared. In a _good_ way.” It was an honest answer and Lance melted just a little more. 

“Me too.” Lance agreed. 

They held each other in comfortable silence for a long moment before he sighed. 

“I think your pumpkin is going to win this year.” 

 

… 

 

And it did. 

Pidge’s pumpkin won 31 to nothing. As painful as defeat was to Lance, he couldn't help but vote for his wife’s pumpkin too.


	6. Scary Movie Night

Pidge couldn’t remember whose idea it was to have a scary movie night, but she was going to find them and she was going to kill them. 

Allura, ever since discovering earthling movies (especially romcoms), was endlessly fascinated with cinema. So when _someone_ (who Pidge had yet to determine and subsequently plot their unsolvable murder) suggested a scary movie night, Allura was quick to second the idea. 

Shiro opted out immediately, but not unkindly. Understanding his violent past, horror movies could hit a little too close to home for the leader of Voltron. 

Coran was unavailable by default, having a previous engagement on a nearby planet and thus was unable to hang around. 

Keith, surprisingly, was on board. Turns out, the red Paladin was a real horror movie buff, which only made Pidge increasingly worried. People who loved horror movies were sociopaths in her opinion. 

It was his idea to watch “the Babadook”, a classic earthling horror movie. 

Even her failsafe, Hunk, was excited for the movie night, though she suspected it was more for the snacks than the actual movie. Movie nights were always a good chance for Hunk to experiment with his latest cooking concoctions. 

Pidge missed her window to opt out of the scary movie night by a long shot. She couldn’t back out now, not without her nosy teammates asking why. She definitely didn’t want to tell them the truth:

Pidge was _terrified_ of scary movies. 

She knew it was completely illogical. Scary movies weren’t real.

They were clever Hollywood cinematic tricks at their finest—cheesy jump scares, actors wearing spooky makeup with the added magic of CGI. It wasn’t real… but the movies scared her every time. The illogicalness of it all was incredibly frustrating. 

There was no reason to be scared. 

But she was. 

Not that she was going to tell her teammates that. As the smallest and youngest member of team Voltron, Pidge noticed that at times her teammates unintentionally coddled her. Whether it was Hunk moving in to take a hit for her in the training simulator that she definitely could have handled, or Shiro carrying her back from a mission when she wasn’t even that debilitated… Pidge didn’t want to give her well-meaning teammates another reason to treat her any differently. 

Maybe if she brought her tablet to work on during the movie, she could ignore what was happening on screen? 

That idea was immediately dashed that evening, when Allura caught Pidge sneaking her tablet into the lounge. Before she could object, the tablet was confiscated.

“Ah-ah Pidge. You know the rules. No tech for movie nights.” The princess tutted firmly. Allura hated to be distracted from the movie. She was much like a kid with their Saturday morning cartoons, wide eyes glued to the screen and loathe to interruptions. 

Pidge knew it was no use arguing with Allura and instead resigned herself to her doom. She settled down on the furthest seat from the screen, her back to the wall. It was a strategic choice of seat, because none of the other Paladins would likely see her facial expressions from this position. Hopefully they wouldn’t notice her hiding behind her hands either. 

Soon, everyone but Coran and Shiro were assembled in the lounge. Keith helpfully turned off the lights just as the movie began and Pidge sank down into her seat in despair. 

She almost didn’t notice Lance settle down on her other side, until he was prodding her with the bowl of whatever Altean snack Hunk managed to concoct this time. 

“Pidge? You okay?” Lance asked, prodding her for the third time with the bowl.

“Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be okay? Just spiffing!” Pidge said a little hysterically, laughing far too high to be natural. 

Everyone on team Voltron, except for Allura turned to stare at her in surprise. 

“Shh! It’s starting!” Allura waved off impatiently. 

Pidge quickly made a show of focusing her attention on the screen, which seemed to be everyone else’s cue to do the same. Only Lance gave her a fleeting, strange look before he turned his attention to the movie. 

 

…

 

Throughout the night Pidge sinks lower and lower into her seat, trying and failing miserably to calm her pounding heart. The Galra hadn’t managed to kill her yet, but this goddamn movie might just do the job! 

Lance turned to her, a frown marring his features for what had to be the fifteenth time, concern radiating in his gaze. Pidge tried to school her features into something neutral, willing the Blue Paladin to pay more attention to the movie than to her. She doesn’t realize she’s trembling until he laid a gentle hand on her knee. 

With a start, Pidge looked at Lance. He beckoned her forward, and without even meaning to she leaned towards him so he could whisper into her ear. 

“Pidge,” Lance began slowly, as though trying to calm a large, panicking animal, “are you actually _scared_?” 

He doesn’t say it unkindly. More in disbelief, because Lance has never seen Pidge look quite so spooked. She’s always so confident and assured, but right now she looks like a deer ready to bolt at the first sign of danger. 

Pidge tried to look anywhere but him, her tongue darting out to wet her lips to stall for an answer. 

“No.” She said unconvincingly. 

“What’s the matter?” Allura’s too-keen ears picked up on the whispered conversation and she paused the movie. Her brow is furrowed sternly until she caught sight of Pidge’s pale face. 

“Are you quite all right, Pidge?” 

Everyone on team Voltron turned to stare at her worriedly and Pidge shied away. 

“Did you want us to turn it off?” Hunk offered, concern lacing his tone. 

A flash of irritation spikes in her gut and her cheeks grew warm. There was absolutely no reason for her to be scared! This was a horror movie. It was totally illogical.  
“I’m fine.” Pidge bit out, before taking a deep breath to fix her tone. She didn’t need to snap at Hunk like that. “Too many snacks is all.” 

It’s a bald faced lie. 

She hadn’t even touched the snacks and everyone knew it. There was an uncomfortable moment of silence before she snatched the remote and turned the movie back on in a fit of stubbornness. 

Pidge settled back onto the couch, arms crossed over her chest and glaring forward at the screen until everyone relented and began watching the movie again.

 

…

 

With a gasp Pidge jolted out of sleep, a horribly sick feeling swirling in her stomach. The vestiges of her nightmare drained away and she forced herself to take a deep, steadying breath. 

This was the fourth night in a row the nightmares had plagued her. The lack of sleep was starting to show. The bags under her eyes were a telltale giveaway for the rest of team Voltron, but luckily they thought she’d been up late working on projects again. It was only a matter of time before that excuse ran its course. 

She rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but the sheets stuck to her clammy skin and Pidge couldn’t shake the awful feeling from her gut. It was an awful thought, that there was something… something like the Babadook lurking in the darkness of her room. It was a stupid and completely impossible, but much like the inexplicable fear of leaving your feet uncovered by blankets would invite the monsters under your bed to get you… it lingered and Pidge couldn’t shake the feeling. 

She steeled herself for another sleepless night.

 

…

 

The next morning at breakfast, Pidge nearly nodded off into her bowl of food goo—twice. She could see the concern in her teammates eyes. Shiro was already mentally preparing himself to give her the “ _you shouldn’t stay up too late, it’s bad for your health, bad for reflexes, etc._ ” speech. 

Surprisingly, Lance got to her first. After breakfast, on their way to the training deck her made sure to catch up to her. 

“Are you feeling okay Pidge?” Lance asked, “you don’t look so good.” 

“Gee, thanks.” Pidge remarked dryly, rubbing her forehead tiredly. 

“You know what I mean.” Lance rolled his eyes. 

Pidge shrugged uncomfortably. “I haven’t been sleeping well.” 

She _really_ didn’t like the look of comprehension that crossed the Blue Paladin’s features. Sometimes Lance was too damn perceptive for his own good. 

“Are you having nightmares… because of the other night?” He tried to ask as delicately as he could. 

Pidge glared. 

“I wasn’t scared.” 

“I know.” Lance offered quickly, holding up his hands as though to show her he was unarmed. 

She leveled him with a look that clearly screamed _back off_.

“If you need anything Pidge, just come get me. Okay?” The offer is so sincere Pidge is momentarily taken aback. Instead of saying anything she just nodded in response, not trusting her voice. 

Lance clapped her gently on the shoulder and offered a brief, encouraging smile before they reached the training room.

 

…

 

It’s impossibly, horribly early _and_ late when Pidge is woken up by the same, awful nightmares that have plagued her all week. Tiredness ached in her temples and Pidge willed the angry, exhausted tears pricking her eyes away. After a moment, she stared up into the darkness of her room in defeat. 

She suddenly remembered Lance’s heartfelt words earlier that day, and in her blurry, sleep deprived mind she finds herself outside of his bedroom door. The door whooshed quietly open, and Pidge hesitated. 

“Lance.” She hissed into the darkness of the room, unsurely stepping inside. There’s no response, but even standing in the doorway of his room Pidge felt much better. Lance’s scent pressed in around her and the quiet sounds of his breathing loosens the tenseness of her muscles immediately. 

She’s _so_ tired. 

Perhaps, that’s why, in her half asleep state, Pidge decided to stay. 

She didn’t want to wake Lance up, and instead stole the spare pillows on the ground that they normally used for gaming. Sleep is a necessity and a rarity for the Paladins when you’re constantly on call as Voltron. Lance deserved a good sleep, so instead Pidge settled down on the ground, leaned against the bed frame and drew her knees up to her chest. 

Pidge let out a deep sigh, listening to the even sounds of Lance’s breathing and enjoying the calm, quietness of his room. 

She won’t stay the night, but maybe… maybe she could rest her eyes for a little while…

 

…

 

Pidge is rudely awoken by a screech and a _crash_! 

It’s dark and for a horrible moment she’s disoriented and breathless until the glow of the night lighting sparks to life and she sees Lance, spilled out over his bedroom floor, likely having tripped over her unexpected frame. 

He groaned and sat up. 

“Pidge?” He asked tiredly, his voice low and husky with sleep.

“Yeah—it’s me.” She affirmed quickly, trying to ignore how his tone causes a warm sensation to seep into her skin. Pidge scrambled up awkwardly, very aware that she must have fallen asleep by accident and she’s definitely overstayed her welcome. 

“Wait. Wait a second. Too tired and I have to pee.” Lance motioned for her to wait and in her tired, tired frame of mind, Pidge stilled before settling back down on the floor. He ducked out of his room and returned not a minute later, yawning widely. 

“I’ll go back to my room.” Pidge offered halfheartedly, standing once more.

“Shh. Pidgeon. Too tired. Less talky, more sleepy.” Lance shushed her, climbing back into his bed. 

Pidge nodded and turned to leave. 

“Where are you going?” Lance’s question stopped her in her tracks. He pulled the corner of the covers back, scooted over and patted the empty space beside him. “You don't have to sleep on the floor.” 

Shocked, Pidge’s feet move of their own accord. She sort of fell into bed and Lance was quick to throw the blankets over her, accepting her into his bed without another thought. 

It’s warm and cozy and the Green Paladin immediately felt at ease. 

“I _hate_ scary movies. They give me nightmares.” She blurted finally, watching Lance’s sleepy face digest this information. 

“I know it’s stupid. I shouldn’t be scared. We face scarier things every day…” Pidge mumbled ashamedly, more to herself than to him.

“S’not stupid.” Lance said firmly, “it wouldn’t be a horror movie if it didn’t make you scared. I just wish you would have said something sooner.” 

Her cheeks flushed inexplicably. 

“Yeah but I shouldn’t—“ 

“Roll over Pidge.” 

Pidge frowned, but did as she was asked. Lance scooted closer and gently shifted beside her, becoming the big spoon to her little spoon. She sighed and sank into his warmth, unashamedly sticking her freezing toes on his shins. 

He squawked indignantly and grumbled something about her being a “heat stealing gremlin”, but didn’t move away. 

“I’m glad you came to me.” Lance said sleepily, “night Pidge.” He was asleep almost instantly, Pidge not far behind him.

 

…

 

For the first time in almost a week, Pidge’s sleep is blissfully absent of nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Voltron Season 8 Eve! 
> 
> I am an absolute SUCKER for the "sharing the bed" trope. Boo yah.


	7. Costume Shoppe

“What about this one?” Lance whipped the curtain of the tiny change room open with an impressive flourish. 

The store clerk, who wore large, owlish round glasses and whose name was Pidge (which he was certain was _not_ her real name), barely glanced up from the papers spread across the counter. 

“A sexy cat, really?” She drawled, unimpressed. 

He frowned. 

“There’s nothing gendered about a sexy cat, Pidge.” 

“We’re not friends. Don’t use my name so casually.” 

So maybe it was her name. Who named a child Pidge? 

Lance directed his frown at her personally this time, but she didn’t glance up again from her papers so it was wasted. 

He went back to admiring himself in the mirror. He looked awesome in the sleek, skintight, black body suit complete with cat ears and a tail—down right dashing even! 

Okay. So maybe it didn’t leave any of his nether regions to the imagination, but it made his butt looked _amazing_.

Lance sighed dramatically and dragged himself over to the counter where Pidge was working. 

Luckily the store was dead. Not many people knew about this particular shop, instead opting for one of those pop-up Halloween shops that came around every year. It worked in his favour that the shop was so quiet—after all, who shopped for a costume on a Wednesday morning at 10AM anyways?

“What would you wear then?” He asked, slouching onto the countertop unhappily. Didn't Pidge understand what a dilemma he was in?

Her nose scrunched in annoyance when he placed an elbow on one of the many papers strewn across the counter, but she didn’t say anything. 

“I need your help.” Lance pouted, ignoring her muttered response of “yeah— _professional_ help”. 

“You’re the only one here and you work here so you must be like… the wizard of costumes or something! She’s All That me, costume Gandalf.” Lance gave her the biggest puppy dog eyes he could muster. “Please?”

Pidge sighed deeply and took her glasses off, rubbing the bridge of her nose tiredly. 

“You’re not going to leave me in peace until I help you, are you?” 

Lance perked up, sensing weakness. “I just need your help picking out an awesome costume—and then I’ll be out of your hair. _Promise_.” 

He really didn’t want to be _that_ jerk who pointed out that technically, helping him with costumes was her job.

Pidge sighed a long-suffering sigh and finally placed the book in her hands down, giving him her full attention. 

“Now. What would I wear and to what exactly?” 

Lance grinned triumphantly. 

“Okay so here’s the whole story—“ 

“Ah bup, bup, bup…” Pidge held up a firm hand, stopping him cold. “I don’t need the whole story. You’ve got five seconds for context.” 

Lance sulked, but judging by the annoyed gleam in her eyes, he knew she wasn’t kidding. 

“I’ve got a huge crush on this girl and I’m trying to impress her. She’s the most kindhearted, beautiful, amazing woman I’ve ever known.” He sighed dreamily, thinking of Allura. “We’re going to be at the same Halloween party so I’ve got to dress to impress. That’s where you come in.” 

“And you didn’t have any other friends available to help you out with this?” She asked incredulously. 

Lance shrugged. 

“Hunk had a doctor’s appointment and Keith’s idea of a Halloween costume is wearing one of those ‘ _Error: 404 Costume Not Found_ ’ t-shirts.” 

Pidge sighed and came around the counter. She stepped down the small step that raised the counter and Lance was momentarily struck by how _short_ she was. Sensing his train of thought, Pidge levelled him with a steely look as if daring him to say something. 

He wisely kept his trap shut. 

“Okay,” she ground out grudgingly, “what does she like? Star Wars? Harry Potter? Lord of the Rings? Video Games? Musicals? Superheroes?” 

Lance froze. 

“Er… I’m not really sure.” 

Pidge stared at him the way one would scrutinize something unpleasant on the bottom of their shoe. “Do you know any of her interests? Or hobbies?”

Lance flushed at her disbelieving tone. 

“Well, we met at school. We go to Garrison University and she’s captain of the basketball team there. I’m on the swim team. But er… we haven’t talked about much besides school and sports.” He admitted a little nervously. “But that’s why I’m hoping my costume will help! You know? Get the conversation going and then I can learn more things about her.” 

“Right. Well, we’ll just go with something classic.” Pidge said neutrally. She moved on after an uncomfortable beat, heading towards the furthest corner of the store without looking to see if he followed. 

He did of course. 

“Ooh!” Lance stopped suddenly, “how about this one?” He pulled out a costume and chuckled at the name, it was giant magnet with fake little chicks glued all over the surface. 

“ _Chick_ magnet? Hilarious!” He laughed, but quickly stopped when Pidge glared at him. 

“Okay, okay. Message received.” Hastily he put the costume back on the rack. Lance watched Pidge rapidly pluck three costumes from various racks before she turned and handed them to him. 

“These are my suggestions. Try them on and see which one you like.” 

Lance grinned. “Great! Thanks, Pidge.” 

“Again,” She waved him off impatiently, “we’re not friends.”

He rolled his eyes and hightailed it back to the change room. Hanging all three costumes on the rack, Lance took stock. 

Admittedly, Pidge did a pretty sweet job. The three costumes in front of him managed to touch on a variety of pop culture or fandoms. 

He eyed the classic, Darth Vader costume with mild interest, but then quickly realized that one was out. At some point during the party he was going to have a drink and not even Hunk would be able to stop him from saying: “ _who’s your daddy_?” 

Moving on, Lance eyed the next costume with interest. It’s an iconic costume—who doesn’t know _Where’s Waldo_? Almost everyone grew up searching for Waldo in the pages of his books. It’s also cute, neutral and safe. 

Too bad Waldo wore red. Blue is _so_ Lance’s colour. He moved on, but didn’t dismiss the idea of Waldo entirely. 

Finally, Lance turned his attention to the last costume on the rack and he gasped.

It was _perfect_. 

Lance shed out of his sexy cat costume like a snake shedding its skin on steroids. He zipped up the new suit and put on the sunglasses, before turning around to get a look at the goods. 

“This is it Pidge!” Lance exclaimed excitedly, “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it! Classy, not overdone, my ass looks amazing… How did you know?” 

Pidge snorted from the front counter. “You looked like a classic movie kind of guy.”

Lance grinned in response. She was absolutely right—he _loved_ classic movies. Especially classic action movies. _Top Gun_ was in his top three! 

He whipped open the curtain of the change room and strode out confidently, dressed as Maverick, from _Top Gun_. 

“What do you think?” He waited patiently for Pidge to glance up from the counter.

“It fits you well.” 

Lance preened under the neutral praise and shot her a happy grin. “Thanks, Costume Gandalf.”

Pidge sighed and rung him up. 

 

…

 

This Halloween was _not_ turning out how Lance initially thought it would. 

The costume was a hit with Allura—after all, who didn’t know _Top Gun_? She’d complimented him, they talked for ten minutes about school stuff, sports and then… ran out of things to talk about. 

Allura was kind and polite and a good conversationalist, but there was just _something_ missing. One, was anything in common, aside from sports and school. Second, the spark that Lance so desperately wanted to be there… _Wasn’t_.

He didn’t know how to feel about that just yet. He’d been crushing on Allura since his first year of University—and he was in year three. She was kindhearted, intelligent and beautiful. She always made time to talk to everyone and was quick to lend a helping hand. Shouldn’t the spark come easily with someone as amazing as Allura?

It was a strange, disconcerting feeling that left Lance moping on the couch in the living room at the party, trying to wrap his head around it all. 

Hunk had left to pick up Shay (Hunk’s girlfriend, who was also on the basketball team) and Keith, and wouldn't be back for at least forty-five minutes. That gave him enough time to mope in peace and hopefully recover enough for when they got back. 

“Small world, hey Maverick?” 

Lance was jolted from his moping by a familiar voice. 

Confused, he glanced up from his cup and his jaw dropped. Standing in front of him was unmistakably: John McClane from _Die Hard_. The ratty looking wife beater, fake blood and gun holster were the biggest tip offs, closely followed by the hilarious bald cap with the John McClane hairstyle. 

Confusion was rapidly dwarfed by excitement. “Die Hard? I LOVE that movie.” Lance blurted out unthinkingly. “You rock dude.”

They laughed and a tendril of warm nerves curled in his stomach at the sound. 

“Thanks, it’s my favourite movie. How’d the costume work out for you? Did you get the girl?”

He stared uncomprehendingly at John McClane. 

“What?” 

“Oh. Hold on a sec.” They reached into their pocket and unfolded a pair of large, owlish glasses and slid them onto their face. “Better?” 

Finally, the ball dropped.

“Costume Gandalf?” Lance asked incredulously, eyes widening. 

“Between 'Costume Gandalf' and Pidge, I'll take Pidge thanks .” She rolled her eyes. “Budge up.” 

Somehow, in his shock, Lance managed to follow her direction and budged over on the loveseat.

Pidge plopped down beside him and took a swig of her drink in a very cool, very John McClane fashion. 

“So?” She prompted again after taking a drink.

Lance started, realizing he had yet to answer the previous question about ‘getting the girl’. A strange sense of embarrassment slithered up his spine and he sighed deeply. 

“No luck. I guess…” Lance couldn’t help but glance over towards Allura, “I guess… I wanted to think I had a chance.”

Pidge nodded empathetically, following Lance’s gaze. 

“She’s still like… the coolest girl I know, but there’s just no… razzle dazzle there?” Lance wiggled his fingers in a jazz-hand like fashion before dropping them dejectedly. 

“That, and she’s been dating my brother for the last two years.” Pidge mentioned casually just as Lance went to take a melancholic sip of his drink. 

He choked and promptly spit beer all down his front. 

“Ew.” Pidge scrunched her nose and non-too subtly moved away. 

“What!” Lance gasped once he stopped choking on his own saliva. 

“Allura. She’s the one you have a crush on, right?” Pidge asked. 

Lance nodded dumbly. 

“Yeah. Her and Matt have been dating for the past few years, but he’s at Altea Tech across the country. So he’s not around a lot.” She explained, oblivious to how Lance’s head reeled dangerously. 

_Ah_. So that’s how Pidge was connected in all of this. She knew Allura. Allura was dating her brother—and _had_ been dating her brother for the past two years. Neither of them realized the connection earlier at the Costume Shoppe. 

“Wow.” Lance slapped his forehead and let out a deep sigh of relief. “ _WOW_. I almost made a complete ass out of myself.” Mortification, horror and embarrassment churned in his gut. Of course there was no spark there—Allura was already dating someone! 

Pidge shrugged. “It would have been an honest mistake if you asked Allura out. You’d only have been an ass depending on how you reacted after that.”   
Strangely, Lance felt better by her blunt words. 

He was at loss for what to say and said the only thing he could think of in that moment: “Thanks John.” 

Pidge laughed and Lance’s heart stuttered unexpectedly. 

“Now come on Mav, let’s get our name in for flip cup. No more moping around.” 

“I wasn’t moping.” Lance denied lamely. 

Pidge gave him an unimpressed look.

“Okay. So I was moping a little.” He flushed, glancing down at his lap.

Pidge sighed next to him. “I didn’t want to tell you this earlier, but… admittedly the jumpsuit does make your butt look amazing.” 

It was said very factually, but Lance’s face heated up so fast it was a shock his head didn’t explode. 

Pidge didn’t give him any time to recover before she stood and offered her hand to him. “You game?” 

Lance only had to think for a split second. “I’m game.” He grinned and accepted her outstretched hand. 

Pidge hauled him up with a surprisingly amount of strength for such a tiny person and Lance nearly bowled them both over. They recovered and chuckled before she turned to lead them both to the dedicated flip-cup table.

Getting over his crush on Allura was going to suck. Lance admired her for so long, and to hear that his crush was in vain was hard. Yet, as Lance looked down at his hand, which Pidge hadn't let go of...

Things were looking up. 

…  
 **BONUS SCENE?**

 

“Okay. I won that round. So I get to ask you a question.” Lance grinned excitedly.

The party was winding down around them, but they hardly noticed. Somehow Lance managed to spend most of the evening with this short, sarcastic, classic movie-loving woman (and he was _not_ complaining). 

Pidge sighed a long-suffering sigh of defeat. “Fine.” 

Gleefully, Lance clapped his hands together. “I’m dying to know,” he began excitedly, and she gave him a wary look, “is Pidge your real name?”

She snorted into glass of water. “That’s your burning question?” 

He nodded seriously. 

“No. It’s just a nickname.” 

“So what’s your real name then?” Lance asked. 

Pidge smirked and not for the first time that night he found his gaze lingering on her lips. “I could ask you the same question, _Mav_ , butI think that’s another question--and you only get one.” 

He flushed, realizing he'd never actually told Pidge his real name. "Oops. Well, I think that should be one of your questions then too. Fair is fair." Lance whined, but then perked up when he remembered the other portion of the loser’s punishment. “Don't forget to lose one item of clothing.” 

They were playing a strange mix of strip poker, with the additional punishment of the winner being allowed to ask the loser any one question. 

Pidge grinned. 

Lance watched as she reached up and yanked the bald cap from her head, unleashing her wild, dark honeyed brown hair. Some of it was pasted to her forehead with sweat, but Pidge didn't seem concerned. 

“Aww Pidge! That’s such a cop out!” Lance groaned. He was already sitting in the chair in his skivvies for crying out loud. Who knew that a jumpsuit would be a really bad thing to wear for strip poker? 

“I think you mean _cap_ out.” Pidge cackled and shuffled the cards, drowning out Lance’s exasperated groan. 

…

(By the end of the night Pidge learned his real name and was pant-less, while Lance was stark naked. How was it fair that it was her suggestion to play strip-question-poker, but he was the one who ended up in his birthday suit? 

Despite the nudity, Lance counted it as a win because he learned Pidge’s real name was Katie—and he’d got her number.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *squints at this chapter for three months before deeming it acceptable*


End file.
